SONG: 'Toccata And Fugue In D Minor' HE MIMICS GUNFIRE HE GROANS WOMEN LAUGHING MAN GROANING ROCKS RUMBLING HE GRUNTS - Why didn't they ask... - Sorry?

Why... ..didn't they ask... Evans?

Evans?

Ask him what?

HE GASPS CAR ENGINE REVVING - Good morning, ma'am.

- Good morning.

Thank you.

- Jane, dear!

- Marjorie.

Ah... MISS MARPLE CHUCKLES Oh, goodness.

Is this Bobby?

Well... - Say, "Hello, Miss Marple."

- Hello, Miss Marple.

This was on the doorstep.

It looks rather important.

MARJORIE: You don't have to go.

Why do you have to go, Bobby?

Jane, dear, do come in.

Roberts, pour Miss Marple's tea.

Having a bit of a drama, I'm afraid.

The letter you gave Bobby... - Yes?

..well, we've had rather an upset recently.

Bobby found a body.

- Gracious.

On the cliff.

A Mr, erm... - Pritchard.

- ..Pritchard.

An accident, the police said, which is why he doesn't have to go to the inquest.

And then this letter's come out of the blue, saying it's not even in the village, but in Market Dorning, of all places.

You've told them everything... haven't you?

Yes.

Oh.

CUPS RATTLING CUP THUDS Sorry.

Oh, really, Roberts!

Sorry, Jane.

She's new, I'm afraid.

Just came back from honeymoon.

How lovely!

- That's enough, Roberts.

- Better be off, then.

Bobby?

Bobby!

TRAIN WHISTLES WOMAN: Bobby?

Bobby Attfield?

Frankie.

Frankie Derwent.

You came to Mummy's dances at Derwent Hall.

We played Postman's Knock in the cupboard, remember?

I think I scared you off, rather.

Did you?

Well, this is rather ghastly.

Let's go to first.

So, how's tricks?

Oh, you know.

Orgies in the vestry.

Usual kind of thing.

How are you?

- Wild.

Just off to town.

Meeting up with Pongo.

Do you know Pongo?

Pongo Slim.

Such a gas.

You should come.

Oh, I've got an inquest, actually.

Oh, well, don't say I didn't... Oh.

God!

Someone you know?

Oh.

Well... ..someone I found, actually.

- Found?

Do tell.

BOBBY: He said something to me before he died.

Why... didn't they ask... Evans?

TRAIN WHISTLES FRANKIE: All shut up.

Decidedly odd.

BOBBY: Well, there's no sign of an inquest.

The letter says... FRANKIE: It's clearly a fake.

But it's perfectly obvious.

Whoever pushed him knows you found him but doesn't know if he said anything.

So, just in case, just in case, they made sure you weren't at the inquest.

Then I've got to tell the police.

- What?

- About Evans.

- No.

- What?

We're doing this ourselves.

But... but aren't we... Oh, fine.

Tell them everything.

Scaredy-cat.

- All right.

- What?

Let's do it.

FRANKIE: 'So, there was an inquest?

'Really, Inspector?'

And, erm... who identified him?

His cousin?

Richard who?

Sorry?

Trent?

Oh, Dick.

Dickie.

Dickie Trent.

Oh, they were so close, like brothers.

Poor Dickie.

I don't suppose you've got his address?

I know you're not meant to, Inspector.

It's just, well, my mother... Lady Derwent, yes, would so love to drop him a line.

"Why didn't they ask Evans?"

Pretty loaded last words, I must say.

Right.

Pop it in the post.

Sit back.

See what he does, our Mr Trent.

The inquest trick didn't work.

I wonder what little surprise he'll have this time.

Come on!

FRANKIE: I'd love to see Trent's face when he reads it.

SHE LAUGHS SHE SIGHS SOFTLY LAUGHTER BOBBY READING: ' "Dear Mr Trent, ' "sorry to miss you at the inquest. '

"Mr Pritchard said something to me ' "before he died which I feel I should tell you. '

"He said, "Why didn't they ask Evans?"

' "Yours most faithfully, Robert Attfield."

' MARJORIE: Bobby, darling?

Is that you?

Remember the time you fell off the orchard wall?

When you broke your arm.

Hmm?

MARJORIE: Bobby?

- I can still see you, teetering along the top of it, shouting, "I'm the Dark Avenger!

"I'm dicing with death!"

And it could have been a lot worse.

About nine, weren't you?

MARJORIE: Bobby, darling?

You never told her.

Said I tripped on your wheelbarrow.

- Are you doing it again?

- What?

Dicing with death?

SONG: 'Toccata And Fugue In D Minor' Quite good, aren't you?

Thanks.

FRANKIE: Any news from Trent?

Anything?

- No, nothing.

- Oh, damn.

Well, it could be a good sign, though.

He could be working out his next move.

- Frankie... - What?

- You know Miss Marple?

- Who?

- Well... - What's that old biddy up to?

I do so love the sea air, don't you?

Hello.

Any news from Mr Trent?

- Sorry?

- I'm just wondering how poor Mr Pritchard got here.

Pritchard?

It's what I was trying to tell you.

MISS MARPLE: What an enchanting lane!

FRANKIE: I can't believe you told her, a silly old woman.

BOBBY: She's not, actually.

MISS MARPLE: Come on.

Keep up.

Well... Could be our Mr Pritchard's.

FRANKIE: Well, it could be anybody's.

From London.

Mayfair.

Lovely view of your house, Bobby.

Ah, reminds me of a film I saw during the war.

Erm, these commandos in Crete stole a German general's car with a wire coat hanger.

BELLS CHIMING Oh!

Is that the time?

Marjorie's expecting me back for elevenses.

Though where they found a coat-hanger on a Cretan hillside, I've no idea.

BOTH GRUNTING SHE GIGGLES Yes.

- Oh, anything of interest?

- Actually, yes.

Nothing much.

Just an old pipe and some tobacco.

BOBBY: And a hotel key.

- May I?

FRANKIE: Mm-hm.

Look, he's marked somewhere.

Castle Savage.

FRANKIE: Miles from here.

- Castle Savage?

Now, I seem to recall...

Right.

Well, thanks for your help, Miss Marple.

You've been marvellous.

Ready, Bobby?

BOBBY: Right.

- Oh, bugger!

Bloody dinner parties!

Bloody mothers.

You could come.

- Me?

Er, well... No.

Don't worry.

Probably organised some man for me, anyway.

- Pongo or someone?

- Probably.

If you change your mind...

Anyway... better be going.

Right.

LAUGHTER, INDISTINCT CHATTER WOMAN: Darling, do mix me one of your sublime martinis.

MAN: I say, Trigger, are you going up to the Helmsley shoot?

WOMAN: Come along.

Bye-bye, darling.

Bye-bye.

Darling... Argh!

TYRES SCREECHING CYCLE WHEEL CLICKING HE SIGHS SHE EXHALES SHARPLY My hero!

SHE GIGGLES We got him, Miss Marple.

MISS MARPLE: Got who, dear?

Trent, of course.

He tried to wipe out Bobby.

He got our letter, where we told him we knew Pritchard's last words, and they're highly incriminating!

BOBBY: Ow!

Oh, poor darling.

Is it terribly painful?

A bit.

FRANKIE: Right, come on.

- What?

Going to Castle Savage.

BOBBY: Castle Savage?

Why?

Pritchard ringed it on the map.

He was obviously going there or had been there or something.

Maybe Trent will be there or Evans, too.

And guess what?

Daddy knows Jack Savage.

The man who owns Castle Savage has an enormous tea empire in... China or somewhere.

Bad apple, apparently.

Anyway, he's dead.

And really suddenly, too.

Heart attack, so they say.

Six months ago.

Oh, this is such a lark.

Two dead bodies, and we haven't even got started!

Right, come on, Bobby.

- No!

- What?

It's not a lark.

Someone tried to kill me.

- Which is the proof we need... - Wait.

Wait?

I don't wait.

Well, go on your own, then.

Right.

If that's what you want, I will.

A fine hero you turned out to be.

CAR ENGINE STARTS, REVS SHE EXHALES SHARPLY Well, she can do what she wants.

I don't care.

Good bloody riddance.

Quite, dear.

ENGINE REVS TYRES SCREECH TYRES SCREECH CAR CRASHES CAR ENGINE HISSING SHE BREATHS HEAVILY FRANKIE: Oh...

Sorry.

Seem to have... - Oh!

SHE BREATHS HEAVILY I've got you, madam.

You're all right.

This way.

THUNDER RUMBLES - Oh!

- It's all right.

I've got you.

- Sorry.

- I've got you.

WILSON: There.

Now, will you be all right?

FRANKIE: Oh.

SHE CHUCKLES WILSON: Wait a minute.

FRANKIE: Oh.

It's all right.

It's all right.

There we are.

SHE SIGHS SYLVIA: Who is it, Wilson?

Oh, dreadfully sorry.

Pranged the Healey.

Daddy will be livid.

Lord Derwent.

You won't tell, will you?

Oh, God.

Oh, sorry.

Frankie Derwent.

How do you... Sylvia Savage.

SHE EXCLAIMS Wilson... what shall we do?

Send for the doctor, my lady.

Send for the doctor?

Yes, that's right.

The doctor, Wilson.

Hurry.

Hello.

I'm Alec Nicholson.

GIRL: What's happened?

You're jolly pretty.

Are you staying?

Dorothy!

I'm so sorry, Lady Derwent.

FRANKIE: Oh, Frankie, please.

DOROTHY: Hello, Frankie.

FRANKIE: Hello.

SYLVIA: Dotty, you're in the way of the doctor.

He's not really a DOCTOR doctor, though.

Are you, doctor?

SYLVIA: Dotty!

Out, please.

Get out!

ALEC: It's all right.

DOROTHY SCOFFS DOROTHY: I'm going, anyway.

Tom...

I saw her, yes.

Now, don't you worry, I used to be a medic during the war.

I still remember most of it.

- So, what do you do now, then?

- Psychiatry, actually.

I have a clinic over the way.

HE CLEARS THROAT Tell me... how's that?

So, what's that, then?

- What?

- Psycho whatsit.

Looking for the truth, I suppose.

Sounds rather terrifying.

Only if you have something to hide.

Right.

I'm going to give you... ..one of these little chaps.

And you should definitely stay... ..so that we can keep an eye.

There.

Pop it down.

DOOR CLOSES SHE SPITS PIANO PLAYING IN DISTANCE ♪ But now I see ♪ ♪ What one embrace can do ♪ ♪ Look at me ♪ ♪ It's got me loving you madly ♪ ♪ That little kiss you stole ♪ ♪ Held all my heart and soul.

♪ My God!

There you are.

I thought you'd skedaddled.

FRANKIE: Still here, I'm afraid.

Smashed her car, poor darling.

Oh, dear.

Nothing broken, I hope?

Oh, I don't think so.

Anyway, Dr Whatsit said I ought to stay, so... sorry.

Excellent diagnosis, I'd say.

SYLVIA: Roger, Dotty... Poor Frankie.

She's supposed to be resting.

Well, she does look better, I must say.

And you've met Roger.

A tonic for any girl.

Aren't you, my darling?

Oh, do play something, Roger, please.

It's wonderful to have music in the house.

Don't you think so, Frankie?

FRANKIE: Oh, wonderful.

SONG: 'What'll I Do?'

SYLVIA: Hmm.

SYLVIA: Hmm.

Frankie, will you stay to dinner tomorrow?

We all have dinner together on Thursdays.

Please can she come, Mummy?

SYLVIA: Of course she can, my darling.

Thank you.

I'd love to.

No-one dresses up.

Apart from Evans, of course.

FRANKIE GASPS OBJECT SHATTERING FRANKIE: I'm so sorry!

I'm so, so sorry.

Don't worry.

Wilson... will mend it.

He's a marvellous mender.

I feel a bit...

I think I need to go back to my room for a while.

I'll take you.

I'll take her.

Mummy got Roger in to teach me, and my brother Tom the piano.

Trouble is, he's a hopeless teacher, Tom's atonal, and I can't keep my eyes off his trousers.

BOTH GIGGLE Who's Evans?

Claude, actually, but we call him Evans.

Worked for Daddy in China.

And that's Daddy.

The mighty Jack Savage.

Not so mighty now, obviously.

Ghastly death.

Writhing and foaming, apparently.

Weak heart, so they say.

I don't think so.

- Don't you?

- He didn't have a heart.

FRANKIE: You must be Tom.

Hello.

Lost something.

Sorry.

Did you find it?

No.

This is Roland.

Touch him if you like.

He won't bite.

- Bit funny about snakes.

- Would you like to meet Kali?

- Kali?

Hindu goddess of death.

My Malayan pit viper.

She's deadly.

Perhaps another time.

SUITCASE CLICKS TELEPHONE RINGS - Hello?

FRANKIE: 'Guess what?'

Frankie!

'I'm here.

Castle Savage.'

Just thought you might like to know.

Pretended to crash the car.

Well... did crash the car, actually.

But it was obviously a clever ruse, as they've taken me in.

- They?

SHE EXHALES The Savages.

Their creepy doctor tried to drug me.

- 'Drug you?'

- Lady Savage is strange, too.

Her son wanted me to look at his viper.

- His viper?

- 'Anyway...' Jack Savage died horribly, apparently.

And guess what?

He used to work with a certain Mr Evans.

'He lives nearby.

I've virtually cracked it.

All on my own.'

What about Trent?

DOOR OPENS Trent?

Well, obviously... he'll be here, too, I imagine.

- Frankie... - 'I've got to go.

Sorry.

Bye.'

HE SIGHS, TELEPHONE LINE DISCONNECTS TELEPHONE SLAMS Bobby!

Bobby!

Come and have some nice cake-y.

I...

I'm feeling a bit better, actually, so I thought I'd, erm... head off.

Oh, Marjorie, dear.

I'm so sorry about this.

Erm... a very dear friend of mine has taken ill in London.

I have to visit her for a few days.

Oh, dear.

She sounded so poorly on the phone.

Erm... Marjorie, I wondered, London's so hectic nowadays, if I might possibly prevail upon Bobby to accompany me.

Bobby?

TRAIN HISSING ANNOUNCER OVER PA: 'London train.

'London train.'

- Now, you know what to do?

- Yes.

You... you've got the key?

- Yes.

- You must use your wits now.

- I'm not sure I have any.

- Oh, yes, you have, my dear.

TRAIN WHISTLES Remember the Dark Avenger!

TRAIN HISSES WOMAN: You never want me to go out, ever!

MAN AND WOMAN ARGUING WOMAN SHOUTING A-ha!

Been wanting to meet this young lady.

Peter Peters.

How do you do?

Your little motor at the gate, I take it?

'Eading for 'Ereford, I believe.

That's right.

HE CHUCKLES Hello.

I'm Evans.

Are you all right?

You just, erm... reminded me of someone, that's all.

Dreadfully attractive, I trust?

Oh, dreadfully!

You worked for Lord Jack in China, I gather.

It was quite a while ago.

- Cocktail, madam?

- Gosh.

DOORBELL CHIMES SYLVIA: Who could that be?

Moira?

- Hardly.

Sorry to go on.

'Ereford, you say?

- Really, Peters... - Hereford.

That's right.

But your motor, I couldn't help noticing, is actually, erm... 'eading away from 'Ereford.

SYLVIA LAUGHS DOOR OPENS Sorry.

WILSON: Excuse me, Lady Derwent.

Your governess has arrived, madam.

- My what?

- Oh, there she is!

I'm so sorry.

Do forgive me for intruding.

I saw the car crashed at the gatepost.

Oh, dear!

But you've clearly been rescued.

Thank heavens!

Oh, you must be Lady Savage.

Oh, do forgive me, please.

Jane Marple.

Frankie's governess.

Well, I've been retired many years now, but still keep in touch, which is so lovely.

How do you do?

- Yes.

You got here just in the nick of time, Miss Marple.

She was about to get arrested.

- Heavens!

Commander Peters here, ex-CID, noticed her motor was 'eaded away from 'Ereford.

Don't be tiresome, Dotty.

Nothing escapes your eagle eye, does it, Commander?

MISS MARPLE: But we weren't meeting in Hereford.

We were... we were meeting in Little Thissendon, at the Rosebush Cafe... Do you know it?

Most delicious lemon curd, which is THAT way, of course.

You must have realised you'd come too far and turned around.

I did.

Far too far.

I turned round on the hill to get back to Little, erm... Little Thissendon.

Yes.

So, there we are, Commander.

Everything's tickety-boo.

- Whatever you say, my lady.

- Oh... Would you... all excuse me?

So sorry.

I-I just need to... Er... Wilson will see to your arrangements, Miss Marple.

Wilson... A room next to Lady Derwent, if it's not too much trouble.

Like old times, isn't it, Frankie?

Of course.

Wilson... FOOTSTEPS RECEDING I don't need any help, you know.

MISS MARPLE: Of course you don't, dear.

Bobby is onto the Pritchard connection.

You remember the, er, key on the fob?

Well, Bobby's rather missed the boat, I'm afraid.

Yes.

Also... - What?

- Downstairs.

Did you feel it?

I can't quite put my finger on it, but something not right.

Wouldn't want to be here without a friend.

SHE SIGHS I found this.

My room reeked of pipe.

- Oh... Pritchard must have been there.

- Yes?

BOBBY: 'I'm in the hotel.'

In his room.

- 'Yes?'

He's not called Pritchard.

He's called Carstairs.

'John Carstairs.'

- WHISPERS: Well done, Bobby!

- 'And...

I found his diary.

'He's written "Savage" on the second.

'And something on the eighth.

A code or something.'

Oh, and a photograph... ..of a beautiful girl.

"Moira."

What does the code say?

What does the code say, Bobby?

Oh, erm, "Nine on the eighth.

SN, Ear, P & P." Oh, another map reference, probably.

- Solicitors.

- 'Could be solicitors.'

Just what we were thinking.

He was dead by the eighth, so he'd never have got there.

Oh, and by the way, Bobby...

DOOR CLOSES TELEPHONE LINE DISCONNECTS THUNDER RUMBLING MAN: Can't mow the lawn in this.

SYLVIA: It's a jungle.

We had such excellent gardeners.

What happened to them?

SYLVIA: Jack got rid of them.

Just before he died.

Replaced them with those wretched, loafing boys.

Why on earth do we keep them?

Because they're cheap.

They're much prettier.

HE CHUCKLES Everything's changing, isn't it?

The whole country's getting richer.

Apart from us, apparently.

SHE MOUTHS SYLVIA: The staff are all gone.

Tilly the housemaid.

Edie the kitchen girl.

Gerald the boot boy.

And Florrie, of course.

Mind you, she couldn't really have stayed.

Poor little thing.

Only Mrs Perkins and Wilson left.

You keep our bodies and souls alive somehow.

Don't you, my darling?

Oh, it's such a struggle.

TOM: How about Roger paying his rent?

SYLVIA: Roger doesn't pay rent, does he?

No, he's just the pianist, isn't he?

- I'm not just the pianist.

- Oh, stop it, please.

- What are you, then?

- Yes, what, exactly?

Will you all shut up, please?

PETERS CLEARS THROAT Mmm.

Charming chicken, if I may say so.

It's haddock, actually.

EVANS: I think we all need a bit of jungle in our lives, don't you, Miss Marple?

Oh, as long as we can find our way out.

DOROTHY: Claude has his own little jungle, don't you, Claude?

Full of poison orchids.

MISS MARPLE: Orchids?

How lovely.

EVANS: They're not all poisonous, my darling.

Some of them are quite polite.

KNOCKING ON WINDOW WOMAN: Moira!

THUNDER RUMBLING ALEC: What are you doing, darling?

You said you'd stay at home.

I feel a bit better.

I thought I'd come over.

Is that all right?

- Of course, darling.

Sit by me... little drowned mouse.

- Thank you.

Thank you, Wilson.

Actually, I was about to ask... Frightful long shot, but...

I had a friend in these parts recently.

Well, a friend of my father's, really.

John Carstairs.

CUTLERY CLATTERS RAIN PATTERING - More haddock, madam?

- No, thank you.

SYLVIA: Carstairs?

DOROTHY: Carstairs, yes.

SYLVIA: Don't think I... - You remember Carstairs.

- Do I?

- Asking all those questions.

Of course, you remember him.

Asking about Dad's will.

- The will, wasn't he?

- Stop it, Dorothy!

So, he was here, yes.

Then he vanished.

- Vanished?

PETERS: You can blame me for that.

I told him to get packing.

Told him to his face.

Got the point, I think.

Where would I be without Commander Peters?

PETERS: I could see what he was after.

Seen it too many times.

Preying on a grieving widow.

So, where is the money actually?

It's been six months since Dad carked it.

Right.

Quiet!

Quiet!

Both of you.

I beg your pardon.

SYLVIA: Shut up.

Shut up!

Shut up!

Shut up!

This is nothing to do with you.

DOOR CLOSES - Very pretty, isn't she?

- Who?

- Moira.

- Suppose so.

Anyway, didn't you notice?

I've just quite brilliantly discovered, if I do say so myself, that Carstairs was here.

And not only that.

They all met him.

When he was asking about the will, yes.

But didn't you notice how they all reacted?

The children were... rather upset.

Yes, yes, the children, but you're missing something much more important.

- Am I, dear?

- Who didn't react?

- Erm... - Evans, Miss Marple.

He just carried on eating his chicken.

- Haddock.

- Haddock.

And I mentioned Jack's name to Evans just before you arrived, and he positively froze.

MOIRA: Oh, sorry.

I'm Moira.

- Hello, dear.

MOIRA: The doctor's wife.

We weren't introduced.

Everything went a bit crazy tonight.

My fault, I'm afraid.

- Your fault?

- There... did you hear it?

BIRD TWITTERING Hark!

Ah, the nightingale What triumph there!

What pain!

MISS MARPLE: Not cold, are you, dear?

Oh, no, I'm fine.

Thank you.

You're very lucky, Frankie, to have such a sweet person in your life.

Your husband seems very sweet.

Oh, yes, Alec's marvellous.

- So... - Trouble is, I rely on him so much.

It's his own fault.

Has this effect, you see.

Stares at you with those great, deep eyes.

Women fall for that, don't they?

I've got no right to get upset.

It's just... ..he spends so much time with her, and I... Silly, really.

I end up spying on them and things.

Coming to dinner uninvited.

I don't know why I'm telling you this.

FRANKIE: No, it's fine, really.

I mean, it's been dreadful for her.

I know she's in grief, he tells me, but...

Honestly, why?

- Why, dear?

Jack never loved Sylvia.

Everyone knew that.

Spent all his time chasing everybody else.

As soon as he saw a woman, he couldn't help himself.

Addicted, Alec says.

Just kept on and on.

She knew it.

Just wouldn't admit it.

That's all.

FRANKIE: Did he chase you?

Ever since we arrived.

Did you tell anyone about this?

Your husband?

Evans told him.

FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING Moira, what are you doing?

We were listening to the nightingales.

MOIRA: Finished at the castle, darling?

ALEC: Yes, all done.

You should really be inside, you know.

MOIRA: I've got Roger's coat.

- Yes.

So I see.

Come along, then.

Good night, ladies.

Thank you, Moira.

FRANKIE: 'Well, it's obvious who it is, isn't it?'

Jack's a monster, so Evans murders him.

Carstairs comes along, finds out.

Evans follows him and pushes him over the cliff.

But... but Carstairs recognises him, which is why he said we should ask Evans.

There, solved.

They weren't quite his words, were they, dear?

Well, near as damn it.

ROGER SINGING Frankie, dear, you have a very sharp mind.

Thank you.

But you must beware of distractions.

Hmm?

Distractions?

ROGER CONTINUES SINGING INAUDIBLE CONVERSATION Come on!

I'll get another mallet.

You know what happened, don't you?

- Sorry?

- To Carstairs.

Don't you?

Come on, partner.

Uh-uh.

Wait here.

Just like... BOBBY CLEARS THROAT Bo... Robert?

- Sorry to disturb you, madam.

I've brought Madam's clothes, madam.

Well, perhaps you'd take them to Miss Marple, please, Robert.

Might I enquire where I might find Miss Marple, madam?

I'll show you.

Come on.

ROGER: Might I enquire if Madam might want some help with her mallet, madam?

FRANKIE GIGGLES Missed a bit.

Snazzy moustache.

At least I'm making an effort.

More than some people.

Well, at least I haven't been swanning about in Knightsbridge.

Swanning about?

MISS MARPLE CLEARS THROAT Come on, Robert.

I want to see my face in it.

I've practically got the whole case sewn up, if you want to know.

Meeting the chief suspect this afternoon, actually.

What are we doing?

Going for a spin?

MISS MARPLE: We've been invited to tea, I gather, with Mr Evans.

- Great.

Let's all go.

- Oh, lovely.

- Your man can take us.

- Good idea.

Robert.

BOBBY: Certainly, madam.

- Loves orchids.

FRANKIE GIGGLES FRANKIE: Bit of a tight fit, I'm afraid.

ROGER: Oh, we'll manage fine.

I like your insolence, Robert.

What's this?

EVANS: Don't touch, darling.

That... is Discolum Septe Serpentilingua.

My little serpent orchid.

Kill you as quick as look at you, wouldn't it?

Certainly would, my darling.

Where's the Paphio one?

The incredibly rare one.

A Paphiopedilum... from China.

Crushed and imbibed by the emperors.

Kept them primed... so to speak... ..for a month.

Exhausting.

Jack's favourite.

I wouldn't have thought Jack was a flower lover.

Jack?

No.

This was just a business.

Commodities.

That's all they were to him.

FRANKIE: Not for you, though, are they, Mr Evans?

EVANS: No.

No, they're not.

They're my darling children, and they're all I have.

Jack was trying to get rid of them, wasn't he?

EVANS: I thought he was my friend.

I... was... ..nothing!

Just a middleman!

Sorry.

Well, it's rather what you are here, isn't it, Mr Evans?

A middleman.

Right between the doctor's house and the castle.

Wonderful views of each.

EVANS: Hmm.

My godfathers, Miss Marple.

You should see what I see.

In and out of that clinic.

There's an actress, barrister, three judges, a politician with a strange proclivity, and that man off What's My Line?

- Goodness!

DOROTHY: And other things.

Other things?

Gosh.

What?

Well, the terrible rows between Daddy and the doctor, for a start.

Moira.

EVANS: Dotty!

I don't see why we can't talk about it.

He's dead, isn't he?

EVANS SIGHS She used to sit there sobbing.

Little Moira.

Poor thing.

She didn't know what to do.

Now it's as bad with Alec.

You know how jealous he gets.

She argues back.

I tell her not to.

She'll push him too far, you know.

Then, one day, he'll really... Really what?

Sorry.

I don't like it when... men bully women.

What a gallant young chauffeur.

Where is it?

What've you done with the will?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Sorry, Wilson.

WILSON: You've no idea.

No idea at all.

MOUSE SQUEAKING Erm... er, brothers?

That is correct, madam.

Lord Jack Savage, recently deceased... ..and the first Lord, George.

His elder brother.

My lady's previous husband.

Wasn't there a tragedy, I seem to remember reading, in China?

A tragedy.

Yes, madam.

Didn't he lose his life there, Lord George?

More than his life, madam.

SYLVIA: 'George brought me to live here 'after we married.'

Such happy days.

A time of... ..enchantment, really.

Laughter.

Parties.

And music.

MEN LAUGHING OUTSIDE Just look at them lazing about!

So... when did you meet Jack?

Oh, not... not till... China.

Not properly, anyway.

Court of the emperor, would you believe?

Pu-yi.

SYLVIA CHUCKLES Er, except he wasn't a... a real emperor.

Just a puppet of the Japanese.

Very handsome in his Savile Row suits, but... ..a joke, really.

He gave them China on a plate.

George could see it happening, but... ..he just shouted at them... ..so they killed him.

Oh, my dear... Oh, Jack knew it was the Japanese.

Jack knew everything.

He was very well-connected.

Very charismatic and charming.

Jack got us both out.

Said that if we didn't go now... Well, he'd heard rumours... ..what they did to European girls.

I was a... child myself.

Jack left you, well, a very wealthy woman.

I don't know what he did in China, and I don't care.

But the way they're grasping for it.

SYLVIA SHUDDERS My own children.

They sicken me, frankly.

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH Thank you.

INDISTINCT CHATTER MISS MARPLE: Dr Nicholson!

Miss Marple!

SHE CHUCKLES Look.

I found a photo of your wife.

Huh?

Where did you find that?

Oh, it's so beautiful here.

Perfect place to heal the mind.

You must have been thrilled when Lord Jack offered it to you.

Well, it was Moira, actually.

She'd already met Jack.

Oh, and charmed him completely, I'm sure.

I'm not surprised you fell in love with her.

Yes.

Anyway... - Kuala Nerang.

That's in Malaya, isn't it?

It looks like a hospital.

That's right.

HE CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY HE CLEARS THROAT - She was my nurse, actually.

- Oh...

I was a psychiatrist, but they needed doctors.

Well, I was still pretty au fait... Well, you could still tie a bandage.

- Exactly.

- Wield a syringe!

Right!

So, Moira and I... Fell in love.

How romantic.

Is that Amber Flush or Amber Queen?

- Sorry?

- Oh, may I... SHE SNIFFS Oh... Amber Queen, I think.

It's quite intoxicating, isn't it?

SHE CHUCKLES SOFTLY Oh, please.

ROGER SINGING AT THE PIANO ♪ Do you recall ♪ ♪ When love was all ♪ ♪ And we were 17?

♪ FRANKIE AND ROGER LAUGHING FRANKIE: So, how did you... ROGER: Wind up here?

Well, I was playing in a club in Soho, actually.

Pretty much on the ropes.

And one day, Alec and Moira walk in, out of the blue.

And we get talking, you know, and Alec says he knows this millionaire who's IN THICK ACCENT: absolutely loaded, Roger.

SHE LAUGHS IN NORMAL ACCENT: His wife wants their kids to learn the piano, and that I could just live there and just... Just what, Roger?

Just waiting for the money, aren't you?

Is that what she said?

Did she?

Well, I've got a surprise for you, Roger.

I've seen the will, and if you think you're getting...

Your, well, I've...

I've seen the will... and if you think you're getting any... if you think... Well...

I've got certain means.

ROGER: How dare you?

How dare he.

Did he just accuse me of... How dare... Is that what he thinks... That bastard!

I'm sorry, Frankie.

You've got to get out.

- What?

You heard the poison he was spouting.

There are bad things here, Frankie.

You've got to leave.

SHE GASPS Sorry.

Bugger.

Sorry.

You've just got to get out.

That's all.

But just say you'll see me again.

But not here.

Somewhere different.

Somewhere safe.

HE GRUNTS DOROTHY: Robert!

Robert?

Robert?

Robert?

I know you're there.

Robert!

SHE GASPS DOROTHY: Robert!

BOBBY: Wait!

It's all right.

BOBBY: Wait!

MOIRA: Please don't!

Please!

Ah!

BOBBY: It's all right.

- I thought it was... oh.

- Can you move it?

Thank you.

You're probably wondering what I'm doing.

No, I was... People think I don't know what's going on.

As if I'm a child.

I know what's going on.

Why can't he just tell me?

He's not in love with her.

He just wants her money.

He's not in love with me.

He doesn't even notice me.

I think you're the most noticeable person I've ever noticed.

I've got to get back.

SHE GRUNTS Here.

I'm Moira, by the way.

- I know.

Please... FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL FOOTSTEPS Ah.

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH Hmm.

HE MIMICS BEE BUZZING May I?

HE CLEARS THROAT So, er... cracked it, I think.

- Sorry?

- The doctor.

- Evans, actually.

- No, actually.

Look, I've been on this case for three whole days while you've been chasing Moira around... Chasing... ..and I've proved conclusively it's Evans.

Evans, Evans, Evans, Evans, Evans, Evans, Evans.

HE GRUNTS DOROTHY SCREAMS SHE GASPS Help!

I don't know why you're looking so smug.

He still did it.

Commander, would you mind terribly reading the note again, please?

PETERS: Certainly, Lady Derwent.

"My life of sin is no longer bearable.

"Goodbye, dear Sylvia.

Claude."

May I, Commander?

Identical handwriting, you see.

Not quite identical, actually.

Look at the L's.

Very inconsistent looping.

I think you'd have inconsistent looping, young man, if you was about to stuff yourself with orchids.

Each flower has been neatly decapitated.

Now, why would he do such a cold and cruel thing to... What did he call them?

His darling children.

If I might be able to dabble for a brief moment in the psychiatrist's domain...

I think you should order an immediate postmortem.

Madam, Lady Savage has been distressed enough recently...

Commander, a cruel and unnecessary death has occurred.

I do think one should be utterly certain of the circumstances before the veil is finally drawn, don't you?

FRANKIE: Evans kills Jack, pushes Carstairs over the cliff, then tries to run you over, then tops himself.

It's blindingly obvious.

He was silenced before we could ask him.

What?

Like Carstairs was silenced when he was pushed over the cliff.

Evans wasn't the killer.

- What?

- "Why didn't they ask Evans?"

We know his last words: "Ask Evans."

Obviously, Evans knew something.

Interesting.

Our Mr Trent, or whoever called himself Mr Trent, knew Mr Carstairs' last words as well, of course.

Well, yes, we wrote to Trent, but Trent is Evans, and Evans is dead.

What?

BOBBY: I saw him.

MISS MARPLE: Saw what?

FRANKIE: Nothing.

MISS MARPLE: What did you see, Bobby?

I simply saw Roger heading for Evans' house at exactly the same time.

That doesn't mean he was going to poison him.

And last night, you thought it was the doctor.

I can't keep up with you.

Roger, I'm going to ask you a question, and I'm just going to ask it so we know where we are.

You were seen headed towards Evans' house last night, just before he died.

I wasn't going to Evans' house.

- Where were you going?

- To the doctor's, actually.

- Why?

Why, Roger?

DOROTHY: Why, Roger?

Cos I was feeling unwell.

DOROTHY: You were seeing Moira.

- Don't be ridiculous.

- You were.

You were seeing Moira.

ROGER: Dotty!

You're having an affair, aren't you?

Are you two having an affair?

- All right, yes.

Yes.

Yes, we are.

We were.

We're not any more.

- You've actually been fu... - Dotty!

ROGER: Who saw me?

- I did.

- The bloody chauffeur.

- Not a chauffeur, actually.

I am, actually...

HE GRUNTS ..Lady Derwent's friend... and we are investigating the murder of John Carstairs.

CUTLERY CLATTERS Ladies and gentlemen...

..I would ask you all to, er, kindly remain on the premises.

SYLVIA: Not now, Peters.

- Very good, my lady.

- Well, they all know now!

- He called me a chauffeur.

- You ARE a chauffeur!

- I'm not a chauffeur!

FRANKIE: Why are you so impetuous?

BOBBY: I'm sorry.

Oh, you're obviously delighted about Roger.

Proves he's a cheat.

Well done.

MISS MARPLE SHUSHES Still, Moira's not as innocent as she looks.

- You don't even know her!

- I...

I think we should keep our voices down.

What's the point?

Everything's blown now.

SYLVIA: Wilson.

No, no.

I'm sorry, Mr Wilson.

This is important.

Lady Savage mustn't be disturbed.

Oh, my God!

- As I thought.

- Hello, Jane.

DOROTHY: Mummy?

What are you all doing?

Please, miss, don't come in.

SYLVIA SHAKILY: Hello, Dotty, darling.

I'm so sorry, my darling.

What's the matter, Mummy?

Why are you talking like that?

What's the matter?

DOROTHY GASPS MISS MARPLE: You see, Dorothy, my dear, she's not having an affair with the doctor.

Huh!

An affair with Alec?

He's obsessed with Moira.

He's just delivering your supplies.

Isn't he, Lady Savage?

And then it's up to you, isn't it, Mr Wilson?

Quite an expert after all these years.

Disgusting!

You're disgusting, Wilson.

SYLVIA: He had to, my darling.

He had to.

It was the... SYLVIA MOANS DOROTHY: It was the what?

WILSON: The pain.

She said it was the pain.

The pain!

HE MUMBLES If you see Frankie, tell her it's over between... - I don't run errands.

Sorry.

- Well, I'm just...

Does Nicholson know about you two?

No, he can't.

At least, I don't think he can.

- Where is she now?

- Well, she's in the house.

But Nicholson won't let me in.

He's got a patient.

She's in the house with the doctor?

Yes.

- Right.

- Well, I'm coming, too.

BOBBY: Where's Moira, doctor?

ALEC: You're the chauffeur!

- I'm not a chauffeur!

- Where is she, Alec?

I have a patient here in a very delicate state.

This is the first time she's spoken in three months.

Any sudden noise, any noise at all, any shock at all, and all of my work with her will be wasted.

So, just go away!

Go away now, please, very quietly.

Now, please.

If you don't... Don't lose your temper with me, Alec.

I'm not losing my bloody temper!

BOTH GRUNTING LOCK CLICKS Right.

Come on.

BOBBY: Commander... - Ah!

The chauffeur detective.

- I am not... - You've got to listen to this.

PETERS: I don't think so, sir.

I'm in charge of this investigation.

Now, if you'd care to follow me, please.

Ah, Miss Marple.

Just in time.

I'm now able to reveal that a substance of a highly alien and toxic nature has been located in Mr Evans' bloodstream.

Deadly snake venom.

You'd like to make your mark, wouldn't you, young man?

For once in your lonely, cloistered life, make a name for yourself I know!

How about extracting the venom from a Malayan pit viper and poisoning a lonely old flower-lover?

- Commander, you don't seem... - Quiet, please, sir!

That would make a splash at the Old Bailey, wouldn't it?

HE CHUCKLES "The snake murderer of Castle Savage."

The black cap.

The march to the scaffold.

You could join a gallery of famous murderers, couldn't you?

Please, Commander!

Frankie!

Miss Marple!

He didn't do it!

He didn't.

Tell them, Tom.

I know he didn't.

Then who was it, then?

Was it you, miss?

No!

It wasn't me.

I know it wasn't.

It wasn't Tom, either... because I happen to know that extracting snake venom of a highly venomous snake... requires certain implements and professional expertise.

That's what we've been trying... Will you let me please finish?

Thank you, sir!

Now... one final question, young man.

How did you first come by this highly venomous snake?

- It was a gift.

- Who from, sir?

From Dr Nicholson.

Well, that's what I was trying to...

I wasn't in the Flying Squad for 40 years for nothing, Miss Marple.

I can see that, Commander.

MISS MARPLE SIGHS She could be in bloody Timbuktu for all I know.

- Where is she?

- Oh, just go away!

Argh!

God!

God!

Bobby!

- Moira?

- Moira?

ROGER: Moira, are you there?

Where are you?

PETERS: Mrs Nicholson?

MUFFLED MOANING AND TAPPING PETERS: Mrs Nicholson?

Alec Mayhew Nicholson...

I'm arresting you on suspicion of murdering Claude Arthur Evans.

It can't be him.

It wasn't him.

It wasn't.

SHE SOBS It wasn't.

Tom, I need to see the will.

The one Mr Carstairs gave you.

He said he'd come back, but he didn't.

Yes, I know.

There's something wrong with it, isn't there?

That's why he told you to keep it.

Thank you, Tom.

"The last will and..." - He changed it.

Left everything to a bloody orphanage.

He hated children.

Why a bloody orphanage in China?

And the day before he died.

That's not his solicitor.

Manning was his solicitor.

A Mr Snape.

Who were the witnesses?

G Sparks.

T Wilkins.

TOM: Never heard of them.

Didn't want Dorothy and me witnessing anything.

That's why he sent us away.

MISS MARPLE: To the Isle of Wight, wasn't it?

Could have asked Florrie.

Why didn't they ask her?

MISS MARPLE: Florrie?

TOM: The nursemaid.

She could've witnessed it.

Florrie... didn't go with you.

TOM: Had to stay here to give him his heart drugs.

He just wanted to letch over her.

Well, poor Florrie.

MISS MARPLE: Lord Jack fired the gardeners when you were away on the Isle of Wight.

You came home to new gardeners, Mr Sparks and Mr Wilkins.

Is that right?

- Yes, that's right.

- And Lord Jack already dead?

Yes.

Now, I really... Oh, one more question, Mr Wilson, please.

How were you informed of your trip to the Ryde Hotel?

A scribbled note, as usual, saying that everything was arranged and to get everybody out of his sight.

That's how he did things.

Not like his brother, Lord George?

- I really don't recall... - Oh, I think you do.

They were different times, weren't they?

What did she call them?

A time of enchantment?

Music.

Of laughter.

MUSIC PLAYING ON GRAMOPHONE MISS MARPLE: 'That's what George brought to her life, wasn't it?

'When they married.

'And then brother Jack walked in.

'It is one of the great human mysteries... 'why we are so prepared to destroy 'all that is good and decent, all for a pair of dark eyes.'

Then, the world intruded.

Didn't it, Lady Savage?

China.

China.

SYLVIA: 'Jack!'

MISS MARPLE: 'And the rules no longer applied.'

You can't protect her now, Mr Wilson, from the memories.

They're all coming back, aren't they, my dear?

MISS MARPLE: 'You knew, didn't you?

'Knew Jack had his brother murdered.

'But it was too much to bear, wasn't it?'

HE GRUNTS MISS MARPLE: 'You knew you'd lost the man 'who really loved you.

'Knew it in your soul.'

SNAKE HISSING MISS MARPLE: 'You thought you could forget, didn't you?'

Forget.

MISS MARPLE: So much to forget.

- Please... Is that why you couldn't love your children?

'Because you couldn't forget?'

DOOR SLAMS Because of the grief?

SHE SHUDDERS Is that why you could never be a real mother to them?

They're like... orphans.

- No, please!

- Miss Marple, I beg you.

Your heart goes out to them, doesn't it, Wilson?

To poor Tom and Dorothy.

Is it them?

Is it, Wilson?

Or is it...

HE SOBS HE CRIES - Oh, you're going?

- Yes.

- Well, I just wanted to say... - What?

..she's gone now.

Out of my life.

Lucky you.

- Can I give a hand?

- No, I'm fine, thank you.

Frankie... What?

Wait for me.

Hmm?

There's just one thing I've got to do first.

It's Sylvia's birthday, actually.

Tomorrow.

I feel like I've got to go, really... after... well, you know, everything she's been through.

Then I'll be free.

And then we can be together.

SYLVIA: Moira!

Poor darling.

I had no idea about Alec.

So dreadful!

Thank goodness for this young man.

Yes, thank goodness.

You're going away?

To France, yes.

But it's your birthday tomorrow.

I'd rather forget about it, anyway.

But we always do your birthday.

Oh, your little face.

Don't worry about my life.

You've got your own back now... haven't you?

I hope so.

I just... ..well, wanted to thank you.

- Oh... well... - Don't forget me.

CAR BRAKES SQUEAKING - Flat as well.

- Both flat.

You were right about the doctor.

Well, you did all the work.

We both did all the work.

Did you make it up with Roger?

He's asked me to wait.

- Wait?

- Till after Sylvia's birthday.

I wouldn't ask you to wait.

Wouldn't you?

- Anyway, good luck.

- Thanks.

Good luck with Moira.

- Thanks.

- What?

- She mentioned it, too.

- Who?

- Moira.

- Mentioned what?

- Sylvia's birthday.

FLOORBOARD CREAKING Hello?

Who's that?

Oh, Moira.

Thank goodness.

- Hello, darling.

MOIRA: We've come to celebrate.

But it's not my birthday till tomorrow.

Still don't know who we are, do you?

SYLVIA GASPS SYLVIA: My God!

SHE CRIES Please!

BOY: Mummy!

GIRL: Mummy!

Mummy!

Mummy!

Mummy!

DOOR SLAMS 'Mummy!'

MOIRA: You left us for dead, you and dear Uncle Jack.

Is it all coming back?

ROGER: Hello, Mummy.

It's Alice and Michael, darling.

We've come home.

SYLVIA SOBS DOOR SLAMS MOIRA: Michael was luckier than me.

Found a nice English family.

They put him in a home.

I wasn't so fortunate.

I had to stay... to entertain the soldiers.

Do you know what they made her do?

Do you have any idea?

Do you have any idea?

SYLVIA GASPS SHE GASPS Not quite what you're used to, I'm afraid.

This is mixed with a little snake venom.

The snake I got Alec to give Tom for his birthday.

Michael... Wilson!

I heard every word, Miss Alice.

Put it down.

Please.

MOIRA: Well, we're all here.

Why didn't you go?

I let you go.

MICHAEL: I did mean it, Frankie.

I do mean it.

Everything I said... Oh, shut up, Michael!

She's a split second from the needle.

Put the gun down, Charles.

Well, that was a waste of time, wasn't it?

Are we ready?

Then I'll begin.

Michael... Is that all you're going to do, dear?

Just kill her?

Don't you want her to know how you did it?

How you've exquisitely planned this moment for so many years.

I'm sure, once the venom enters her blood, she'll be in too much agony to take much of it in.

You seem to know all about it, Miss Marple.

I just observe, dear.

Then tell us what you've observed, and I'll tell you if you're right.

Er... would you mind putting the needle down?

Please.

The sight of a needle really makes me quite giddy.

Still dread the dentist.

Always have.

I'm just a coward.

If you wouldn't mind.

Thank you so much.

Well, erm... for a start...

He had no idea, had he, Dr Nicholson, that he was passing on such fatal knowledge?

Men always like answering girls' questions.

Makes them feel superior.

How the venom of the Malay pit viper, for example, can replicate the symptoms of a critical cardiac ischaemia.

Isn't that what it's called?

Poor Jack.

He must have been beside himself with joy that evening when you dropped round to say you'd changed your mind about his offer.

MOIRA: Jack... Jack.

MISS MARPLE: 'Poisoning Jack was, 'one could say, child's play.'

But now, the real drama began.

Your next job was to disguise yourself, wasn't it, Roger?

- Michael.

- I'm so sorry.

Michael.

So good at mimicry and disguises.

I'm sure you made an excellent Mr Trent at the inquest of your cousin, Mr Carstairs.

You really should have been an actor.

Oh, and an excellent forger, too, such as suicide notes.

And the note to Mr Wilson, telling him to take Lady Savage and the family to the Isle of Wight.

And the note to Florrie, the nursemaid, telling her to take the afternoon off.

Oh, and by the way, would she send up the gardeners before she went?

That is, the new gardeners, of course.

The old ones had been fired, hadn't they?

They were needed to witness a will.

Lord Jack Savage's new will.

Am I right so far?

- Go on.

So, then a solicitor arrived.

Not the usual solicitor.

No, a new solicitor.

A Mr Snape.

DOOR CREAKS OPEN MISS MARPLE: 'Who let them in, I wonder?

'The new solicitor and the new gardeners.

'Well, it should have been Florrie, of course, 'because she was the one person left in the house.

'But she'd been given the afternoon off, 'so, clearly, 'a brand-new nursemaid let them in.'

HE EXHALES SOFTLY MISS MARPLE: 'And the reason 'why nobody who knew him could be there 'was because the Jack that Roger created 'had just made a rather drastic change 'to his will.'

PEN SCRATCHING MISS MARPLE: 'Not that the new gardeners would have cared.

'Hadn't even bothered to wash their hands.

'Jack's money was left 'to the Kuang Ho orphanage in Shanghai.'

You won't see a penny, will you, Lady Savage?

But that's all right, isn't it?

A small price to pay... All this foul, filthy money...

I was happy he was leaving it to the little, lost children of China.

I want all the children in all the world to have all the money.

I want... all the children in all the world... ..to smile... ..and take away this pain.

MOIRA: You think that gets you off the hook?

You really think that your pathetic guilt...

Sorry, I hadn't quite finished.

May I?

The story?

The moment it all changes.

What do they call it?

The twist.

Go on!

Well, it was all going so well, wasn't it?

You'd killed Jack, organised the money.

Now all that was left was... to prepare for this final moment.

And then... oh, dear, Mr Carstairs arrived.

'Jack's old compadre.

You hadn't reckoned with him, had you?'

I can't believe you're taking this will seriously.

Sylvia, are you going to contest the will?

You know as well as I do... MISS MARPLE: 'He knew something was wrong.

'Travelled all the way from China to investigate.

'And he wouldn't let it go.

'Like a terrier, our Mr Carstairs.

'So many questions.'

SYLVIA: 'But I showed him the will.

'I wouldn't get a penny.

'I told him I didn't care.

'Give it to the orphanage.

'Give it to the children.'

MISS MARPLE: 'But he DID care.'

He knew it was a forgery because he knew Jack.

Oh, he was close.

So very close.

When he went on that last fatal journey.

But you never thought to ask why he was there, did you?

- So, why WAS he there?

MISS MARPLE: Looking for Evans.

- Evans was here.

MISS MARPLE: Oh, yes, indeed.

Claude Evans was here.

You killed him to frame him.

Poor man.

But there's another Evans, you see.

You still don't know that, do you?

MICHAEL: What other Evans?

- He was so close.

He just couldn't answer that final question.

Why?

Why?

HE GRUNTS Why... didn't they ask... Evans?

Why didn't they ask Evans what?

To witness the will, of course.

Why go to all that trouble of sacking and hiring and impersonating when all they had to do was ask Evans?

What Evans?

Who's this man Evans?

Ah.

You see, now, that's the mistake.

Odd, isn't it?

It's such an easy thing to do, assuming Evans was a man... ..whereas, all along, it was a woman, a young woman.

A nursemaid, in fact.

Florrie Evans.

So, why couldn't they ask her, Miss Marple?

Because, my dear, she would have recognised Roger instantly.

But they needed her there.

She HAD to be there to discover Jack.

'To witness the sudden onset of his so-called illness.'

SHE SCREAMS Darling... Do it.

Go on.

Do it, please.

No.

No.

SYLVIA: But I want to die.

Do it, darling.

Oh, I-I...

I know.

Let me have it.

Give it to me.

And... and we'll do it.

Wilson and I will do it.

Won't we, Wilson?

Wilson's very good.

Plenty of practice, you know.

For God's sake, get on with it.

Get it over with.

Go on, Moira!

Alice!

I'm Alice!

MOIRA SCREAMS MOIRA: Get off me, you bitch!

BOTH GRUNTING Tom, go on, do something!

Do something!

Do something!

FRANKIE: Argh!

DOROTHY: Pick up the gun!

BOBBY GASPING Tom!

GUNSHOT BOTH GASP MOIRA GRUNTS Oh!

BOTH BREATHING HEAVILY WILSON: Ah!

MOIRA GASPS MOIRA EXHALES I'm so sorry, Miss Alice.

MOIRA WHIMPERS SHE GROANS What I still don't get is why was Carstairs looking for Evans here?

Oh, hadn't I explained that bit?

Erm...

I'm so sorry.

Mrs Roberts... More cake, is it?

Or may one call you Florrie?

"Florence", actually, madam.

"Florrie" was my last job.

- When you were Evans?

- That's right.

Yes, madam.

Nursemaid to Sir Jack Savage?

Yes, I was.

Not wishing to speak ill of the dead... randy bugger, if you take my meaning.

Quite.

- But you're happy now?

- Oh, yes, indeed.

Married to Mr Roberts now.

Treats me like the ruddy Princess Margaret!

If you pardon my French.

And that's all you can ask, isn't it?

Someone who treats you right.

Like there's diamonds on your soles.

Lady Derwent, what an honour.

Roberts, this is not the correct china.

Er, it's not "Roberts", Mother.

It's "Florence".

MARJORIE: I beg your pardon?

Cliff walk, anyone?

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